


One Kiss

by ishte



Series: One Kiss [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: F/M, FullMetal Alchemist - Freeform, One Kiss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-03-07
Updated: 2008-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-15 09:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishte/pseuds/ishte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward likes to tell me stories about kissing Winry. This little sketch here, I didn't have to turn him upside down and shake him to get it out of him. Instead he spent the evening pounding it into my head until I gave up and wrote the draft last night. Now then. Obvious disclaimers apply: I don't own Jack… Actually, I do own Jack, but I don't own Edward. Nor anyone else in Amestris for that matter.</p><p>My canon is Animeverse including CoS (though that doesn't really apply in this case) and the mangaverse applies where it is not in direct contradiction, or where Ed tells me "Yah that happened, but it was like this:"</p><p>Reviews are welcome of course, so please encourage me with feedback. Whether it's good or bad it lets me know you read it and what you thought of it and my probably multitude of typos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Kiss: Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winry rebuilt the arm Scar destroyed. Now Edward must continue on his journey with his brother. But he's got something to say to his Mechanic before he leaves...

"Win…" Edward reached with his left hand and took hers, pulling her to a stop while the others continued down the hill toward the station. His grip was tentative at first, his eyes on the ground, fingers resting lightly against her palm. Her closeness sang through him, when her hand remained in his.

"What is it?" Her fingers closed around his a little.

He held onto her hand. Fear kept him from speaking. What if his voice shook? If he said the wrong thing? What about that wrench in her other hand? He clamped down on a shudder and spoke. "I…" He let the ragged mess of his bangs keep his face hidden from her while he hesitated; wrestled with his own trepidation.

"Edward?" He closed his eyes at the sound of his name on her lips. The sweetest sound in the world. Her grip tightened as if she meant to offer encouragement.

He opened his eyes and raised them. First to their hands–his fingers clasped around hers, his touch firmer now as he lifted his face to hers. One of these days he would grow tall enough that he wouldn't have to look up to gaze into those amazing blue eyes. His grip tightened, the flash of irritation enough to carry him through the paralyzing hum of his own nerves into a decisive action. If he couldn't say it with words… One step closed the distance between them. One fluid motion of his right hand took the wrench from her and dropped it to the ground next to them. That same hand–the hand she had made for him–came to rest on her hip as he rose onto his toes a little.

"Ed? What are–"

He stopped her with his mouth. Answered her with his lips on hers. Sweet. Soft. Warm. Winry. A sigh escaped him. A soft moan when her lips parted a little under his, the tip of his tongue tasting her for just an instant before he ended it, and stepped back. "I'm sorry," he told her, head down, steel fist clenched.

"Sorry?" she asked her hand still warm in his. "Why? Edward–"

"Because!" He bit his lip for a moment, ashamed to cut her off like that, to raise his voice to her. He looked up at her, into those eyes like sapphires and amethysts all at once. "I shouldn't have done it… I have to go." He turned away from her, but she wouldn't let go of his hand, and he was reluctant to pull it free just yet. "I have to Winry. Alphonse is waiting. And the major … We'll miss our train if I don't go now."

"I know that, Edward."

He clenched his teeth, wanting to shout, wanting to weep, and unwilling to do either. How could she be so kind? He was always leaving her. Always making her sad. "I'm really sorry." Gently, gently he pulled his fingers out of her hand, reached up and touched her cheek, his eyes begging her not to cry.

She shook her head. "Take care of yourself, Edward," she told him warm fingers touching his steel arm–her arm. "Come back when you can. I'll be right here."


	2. One Kiss: As Usual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winry is right about most things. -- This is a one shot that takes place in my Chasing the Trail universe. Post Movie, Ed and Al back home to stay. Mostly Animeverse, but Mangaverse where Ed tells me "Yah that happened, but it was like this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my submission for Fire and Ice 2008. Kind of sorry it didn't do better, but that's okay. I liked it anyway. It was fun to write. Almost wrote itself. Ed would like to point out that at this point in his life he has kissed Winry many many times before this, so it's not a first kiss story at all. He'd also like to point out that I don't own him, and says that Arakawa doesn't either because he's Ed. - Obviously this is fan fiction. I don't own any of the characters. I'm just playing in their ice rink.

"You know I haven't tried this in years Winry," Edward felt the need to remind her as they stood shivering in line at Central Square. "Not since…"

"It's like riding a bicycle, Ed," Winry said airily, waving a dismissive hand. "You never forget how."

Edward frowned at her. "You know I never really learned to ride a bike, Win," he pointed out. "That drawing Al did was—well it was really good—but it was just fluff. Seriously! It never happened."

Winry gave him a pretty pout, her hands on her hips. "You know what I mean, Ed!" She told him, shooing him forward in line.

Edward sighed and rolled his eyes. This was how it was going to be. _As usual_. He was willing to accept it. Happily even, but the hell if he wasn't going to roll his eyes and pretend to argue. "Fine fine! Whatever… You better have a crane ready if I fall through," he told her as he paid the man at the booth.

Winry snorted with an eloquence that Edward could hardly have matched. He turned to hand her one of the pairs of skates, and she laughed as he shoved them into her hands. "Ok come on, Ed!" she insisted. "You can't fall through. It's just a big frozen fountain. You and Al used to play bandy whenever it got cold enough for the lower pond to freeze. Hell I played too!"

"Yah, but—"

"No 'but' anything," she interrupted. "Your automail is top of the line. Now that it's all refitted again, you may as well give those new locomotor circuits a workout. There's nothing else like them, you know? Hardly anyone has them in their automail yet. And those new relay sensors." She put her hand on his arm and shook her head. "I invented them for you. Nobody else has anything like 'em."

"I'm your guinea pig," Edward told her with a smirk. But he waved his metal fingers at her through the glove. He had to admit that the sensors were really something. They gave him back sensations well beyond the very rudimentary pressure, temperature and spatial sense he had gotten used to. His first set hardly had that. The second had a little more, and was still superior to anything anyone else had. The arm and legs he and Hohenheim had built in London, and some later legs in Munich had no inbound sensors at all. Not to mention constant breakdowns, until he eventually had almost a dozen legs in various states of repair and if he was lucky he might have one of them working properly again by the time another one broke.

"You're a perfect guinea pig, Ed!" Winry beamed, interrupting his thoughts. "Who else can move like you?"

Edward started to point at his brother on the ice already with his girlfriend, but Winry overrode him.

"With automail, Ed!" she chided. "Sit down and put your skates on!"

Edward obeyed, strapping the rented skates on tightly over his boots, and then sitting back up, his hands on his knees watching her finish hers. He liked the way she crossed the laces over her ankles, pretty even in warm winter boots.

"Ready?" he asked her nervously once she straightened again.

Winry nodded and he got up awkwardly. "I don't know Win…" he said, trying to get his feet to feel right under him. He stood, teeth chattering. Central's winter was colder than usual this year, but they'd warm up quickly enough once they were moving around more. He let her take his arm, pretending it wasn't because she was steadying him, and they made their way onto the ice.

There was music playing. For a moment, Edward was baffled by that, trying to find the orchestra until he realised that someone had gotten the brilliant idea of rigging a phonograph with a microphone and then positioning speakers in various places around the makeshift rink. The record starting to skip ruined the effect for a moment until the attendant carefully eased the diamond stylus over a groove past the scratch.

"Just promise yourself that you'll laugh if you fall down, Ed," Winry warned him. "I'm serious!" She said when he shot her a look, and then did a balance check. "You are way to critical of yourself. If you fall, you haven't done anything anyone else has never done. You haven't skated in years."

"Let go of me if I start to fall, and I'll think about it." He'd never laugh if he took Winry down with him. Al? Sure. Al was a man. He might even take Al down on purpose. _Not Winry_. He pushed off and tried to remember how to do this. His right foot seemed to remember. His left? Well… Even walking was different, he'd had to learn how to make his new leg do what he wanted it to, and for his brain to adapt until it seemed normal. If he had gotten his flesh limbs back, Edward knew he would have had to relearn everything just as he had with his automail—just as he had an adjustment period every time one of his limbs was upgraded or replaced. His left did not remember how to skate. He couldn't remember how to shift his weight onto his left foot, how to use his weight against the skate to move forward, rather than awkwardly pushing the skate out or worse, back. "Okay, Win?" he asked, wanting her to tell him she wouldn't crash with him.

"Nope," she said lightly, and stuck her nose in the air. She was pretending that there was nothing awkward at all in the way he moved.

"Win!" Edward growled, the distraction causing him to push his foot back weightlessly, which threw his weight too far forward on the right, and sent him sprawling onto all fours, "Scheisse!"

Winry came tumbling after, landing half across him. He went flat beneath her, she laughing brilliantly the whole while.

"Aw! My back!" Edward protested, red-faced. "Why do people always have to land on my back!"

Winry laughed harder and pulled herself off of him. "Come on Ed. She regained her feet and offered her hands. "Try it again. Remember when we were learning to walk again? Think about how you do it with your right leg. Your right leg remembers. I can tell when I watch. Just work to make your left do the same thing. You know how your new leg works well enough to do that. The only difference is with skating you're kind of doing it in the opposite direction."

Edward scowled. He should never have agreed to this. But Winry was having a good time. The little amethysts he had bought her sparkled in the ovals of their silver cages where they hung from her ears. She looked stunning, even bundled for the cold winter weather of Central. "'Kay," he got his right skate under him, and let her help him up. "Just gotta remember to shift my weight and not push with my foot."

"Right," Winry agreed taking his arm again, and helping him along for a while.

It took some baby steps, a few more false starts and a couple more falls, before Edward had the motion figured out. But then, Winry turned out to be right. _As usual_. He was doing it with almost as much skill as he had during their childhood. He got Winry to keep him from plowing into anyone while he relearned backwards as well. For a moment he thought he might have trouble with it, but once he watched what his foot was doing and adapted it to what he knew it was supposed to be doing, he had it. Oh certainly he didn't have perfect grace, but he could skate passably well. It wasn't as if hockey players did figure skating. _Or bandy players_ , Edward reminded himself. They just needed to be able to go forwards, go backwards, do quick turns, make quick stops and starts, and sometimes jump.

Some old waltz was playing on the phonograph, as they skated along, Winry holding Edward's arm, and Edward's hand resting on hers. Of course his brother had to skim by with Molly in his arms, turning in a quick gliding step. A little surge of jealousy washed through him.

"You want to try that?" Winry asked, correctly reading his expression. _As usual_.

Edward shook his head, frowning. Winry knew he could dance. They went to the Central Palais often enough. "I don't know how, Winry. I'll have to have Al teach me the step.

"Ed," Winry grinned. "I know how. Bill Barney taught a bunch of us girls." She fairly beamed with pride. "Well and some of the boys too, obviously."

The flash of jealousy that stabbed through Edward was unfounded. He knew it. Old Bill Barney was harmless, and it wasn't like any of the boys were going to try anything with one of the girls under that watchful eye.

"I'll teach you," Winry told him brightly stopping him and pulling him into position.

It was very obvious that Edward would have no choice. She knew what he really wanted whatever he said. _As usual_. He grinned. "You know we're going to wipe out, Winry."

"So," Winry shrugged. "Here, you hold this hand, and this one goes here, just like normal," she said airily. I'll push you in the direction you're supposed to be leading until you get it, okay?"

"Right."

They ended up in another heap on the ice, Winry laughing and Edward scowling. "Just as I thought," he grumbled from under her.

"Oh Ed…" Winry laughed, rolling off him.

"Are you all right?" he asked this time.

"I'm fine," Winry told him. "I played bandy with the boys, you know."

Edward snorted softly, this time getting himself up, and helping her before he dusted himself off. "All right," he studied his brother this time as the pair passed. "I think I get it now. Every third step I turn us, and we don't tangle our skates up." He pulled her into dance position again, remembering, as he knew she was, those hours in Pinako's living room while she tapped out the beat with her stick. For Edward, learning to dance was part of the retraining of his limbs. That he got to dance with Winry was a perk he hadn't fully appreciated until he had gotten a little older and better understood what he wanted.

His lips touched hers, before he fully realized what he was doing. She kissed him back, their lips cool, tips of noses frigid.

"We'll get frozen together if we keep that up," he told her seriously knowing it wasn't true, but thinking it funny anyway. He began the dance again, this time with a little more confidence. It was what Winry wanted. Winry got what she wanted. _As usual_ , he thought once more, not minding at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes: For anyone unfamiliar with the term, Bandy is sort of like ice hockey... well... really it's more like if you strap on ice skates and play field hockey on the ice with a ball. In some countries it's called Ice Ball. Ed and Winry tell me that's what they played in winter if it got cold enough for the pond to freeze solid.


	3. One Kiss: A Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sketch of a little sweetness over breakfast [Ed X Win]. Doesn't matter which universe. It's too short for that to come into play. Really could be be any couple. I was sort of experimenting with a more tactile approach to the style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for the nanomowhinging community on LiveJournal using prompt: #77 – Taste.

His eyes watched her sleepily, his chin resting in his palm, fingers curled against his left cheek. His right hand cradled the hot mug of coffee, but its bitter acrid flavor held no interest for him at the moment. His full attention was on her. Her and the sweet rolled bun in her hand, drizzled with honey and cinnamon. His eyes followed her fingers as they unwound a length from the spiral and brought it to her mouth, lips lazily sucking the sweetness from each one in turn before returning to unroll a bit more.

After several minutes, her blue eyes met his–saw him staring at her–watching her over his steaming mug. "Want a taste?" Her hand unrolled a bit more and offered it to him.

He nodded, his legs pushing him out of the chair of their own volition. They carried him around the corner of the table, a hand dragging the chair behind him. They sat him down in the chair in front of her, eyes watching her surprised face. Her hand offered the bit of soft gooey roll and he shook his head. That wasn't what he had in mind. His hand closed around her wrist as he leaned forward, pulling her closer. His lips met hers, softly. His tongue tasted her mouth, gently. His lips smiled, sweetly as he drew back from her. The taste he wanted was of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	4. One Kiss: Flaxen Blonde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sketch of a few seconds contemplation in the morning. Doesn't matter which universe. It's too short for that to come into play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for the nanomowhinging community using prompt: #68 – Hair Dye. It seemed like given that I was credited with suggesting the prompt that I ought to at least attempt to use it.

Edward woke, his face buried in sunshine. He inhaled the scent of it, his eyes still closed, unwilling to give up the comfort of sleep just yet, as he contemplated Winry's hair. Women paid a fortune, and spent hours in beauty shops, for this. His fingers eased into her fine flaxen strands. They were willing to risk experimentation themselves in the hopes of finding just the right balance of chemicals–ammonia, peroxide, lye, soda ash, potash–to achieve this. They spent their cenz at the pharmacist's, the chemist's, the alchemist's, believing in their ability to find just the right formula to find this. After that such treatment, it could never feel like this–silk couldn't be as fine and smooth as this. It could never smell like this–just that hint of lavender and sunshine. They could never achieve what Winry had been born with. Edward opened his eyes to the sunshine, pulling himself up on to his elbow to watch her sleep. Winry rolled onto her back in the absence of his weight behind her, and eyes as blue as the sky opened, with a sleepy smile made just for him. He greeted his wife with a light kiss. "Good morning, sunshine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. This was written for the nanomowhinging community using prompt: #68 – Hair Dye. It seemed like given that I was credited with suggesting the prompt that I ought to at least attempt to use it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please Review!
> 
> Corrected 2007-03-08 – Thanks for editing Marks from Evil_Little_Dog


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